What I've Learned Cosplaying as a UC Berkeley Student

Overcoming feelings of not belonging never fully stabilizes as a queer engineering student; choosing to immerse myself in a cutthroat academic environment like University of California, Berkeley would seemingly only intensifies that tension, but it didn't.

My attempt at becoming a faux UC Berkeley student began when my friend and calculus peer, Jason, sent me a photo of six linear algebra textbooks stacked across a wooden library shelf, clearly thrilled by what he had found.

Some weeks passed, and after a failed attempt at crashing the Stanford engineering library (Because I am not paying $35 to sit and study ANYWHERE), I decided to give UC Berkeley a chance.

I began studying at UC Berkeley with Doe Library, a beautiful domed building with a room lined with books, plentiful of large tables and outlets for charging. Indeed gorgeous, but yet, unsettling?... and besides, where were the math and engineering textbooks?

The next day I returned to campus to procure my collection of PID controller theory books from Kresge, the math and engineering library. Having come from Doe, I anticipated prestige and an equivalence of beauty. In what feels like a basement, I found a cave like library. Ironically, this set up was a little too on brand for engineering majors.

Despite the (somewhat underwhelming) interior design, from that day forward, Kresge became my happy place. I was instantly obsessed with the access to endless textbooks on math and engineering principles, as well as the lively and collaborative setting I was surrounded by. I felt like everything clicked after Kresge- the highly desirable prestigious establishment may be worth the hype after all.

So, what have I learned after 3 months of consistently visiting and studying at Kresge?

1) Kresge is where my imposter syndrome went to die

The first few weeks were admittedly intimidating, I felt like everyone knew I was a CCSF student; At any moment I would be found out, publicly shamed, and forever banned. With time, however, I realized... nobody cares.

I noticed another non-traditional library patron frequented Kresge like myself, and by proxy of him, I began to believe I too belonged there. What changed everything wasn’t confidence, but exposure. That familiarity softened the edge of the space and, gradually, my place within it.

By the second month, the environment shifted from intimidating to instructive. Surrounded by students with resumes I once found unreachable, I expected to feel further behind. Instead, I saw something far more useful. Demystifying the person behind the perfect resume by overhearing them frantically study for an upcoming test, or having last minute discussion about a group project allowed me to truly see a future for myself there.

That proximity dismantled the narrative I had built around them. These were not untouchable, exceptional people. I saw the same versions of my worst academic self in them. They were students navigating the same pressures, often in the same imperfect ways.

At some point, the question “Do I belong here?” stopped surfacing. Not because I proved anything, but because the premise no longer held. I buried my imposter syndrome deep in the pages of "Calculus of Several Variables" by Serge Lang.

2) I now have 3 brain cells instead of 2 because I started reading textbooks at Kresge

The millennial aged adage "I rubbed my two brain cells together to finish..." became terrifyingly real for myself in the Fall 2025 semester. After some turbulence in my personal life, I eventually fell victim to using AI to think for me. It was a slippery slope; I made the decision to drop from 13 units to 5, cut my hours at work from 35 to 20, and committed to never falling so dependent on AI again.

Eventually, Kresge changed what this reset looked like in the Spring 2026 semester.

What began as a search for resources on PID controller theory expanded into something more fundamental. I began using 4-5 books at a time to work through my problem sets in Calculus, and fell in love with constructing my conceptual understanding of these materials through books.

Each book approached the material differently. Some leaned heavily on theory, others prioritized computation. Instead of forcing one perspective to work, I moved between them. When one explanation failed to land, another clarified it. That process turned passive problem-solving into active construction of understanding. Over time, the effect became measurable. Concepts held longer, problem-solving required less guesswork, and patterns surfaced more quickly. The improvement did not come from working harder, but from engaging more directly with the material.

Kresge didn’t just give me access to books. It gave me a system: use multiple perspectives, prioritize understanding over completion, and let clarity emerge through comparison.

3) UC Berkeley Faculty aren't as Distant as you Think

My perception of Berkeley faculty shifted after Math Club hosted Professor Josh Grossman for a speaker event. I expected formality and distance. Instead, he insisted we call him by his first name and spoke with a level of openness and kindness that didn’t match the image I had constructed.

That interaction reframed how I approached faculty. What stood out wasn’t institutional prestige, but how quickly the conversation moved toward ideas. The barrier I assumed existed between community college students and Berkeley professors felt far less rigid in practice.

I've realized that faculty are far beyond the pursuit of prestige, and truly engage with prospective students for the sake of loving the subject matter. Sure, we can all acknowledge UC Berkeley is an incredibly successful institution with an abundance of resources and opportunities, but beyond that, engaging with faculty on on the basis of the expertise they hold is far more exciting. I highly encourage anyone pursuing a degree to lean into reading the works of these professors; appreciate the time and energy they put into publishing their ideas, and engage with them on the basis of these ideas. You will create a strong and lasting impression on them for approaching them with authenticity. The shift for me wasn’t that professors suddenly became more accessible, it was that I stopped treating them as distant figures, and started engaging with them as people invested in their field.

Overall, my takeaway is putting yourself on campus regularly naturally reveals opportunities you may have never known about otherwise. These opportunities will seamlessly align themselves in the experiences you're seeking out. Push yourself out of your comfort zone, and remember when anxiousness arises- the worst they can say is no ; )